


The Senator

by angstbot



Series: The Senator [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>United States Senator Regina Mills meets barista Emma Swan, but DC is no place to be in the closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma heard the slight squeak of the front door and looked up in surprise. The Sunday ungodly-hour regulars were all already here, and the gentrification crowd usually didn't roll in until around 10. But there she was, a stunningly elegant woman in her late thirties or early forties who was dressed far too formally for a weekend morning coffee jaunt. She was clearly from the Hill, dragging herself home after some marathon lawmaking session.

It was a bit unexpected; there were a few senators and congressmen in the neighborhood, and they came in from time to time, but Lattetude was really too artsy and bohemian for most of them.  This one, however, seemed relatively at home, glancing casually at the other early-morning patrons as she strode purposefully to the counter--and then choked on her request for a quadruple espresso to go as she took in Emma's wifebeater and tribal armband tattoo. And breasts. Her eyes definitely lingered there for a bit longer than was polite.

Emma turned to the espresso machine to hide her smile, and once she had her amusement under control and the coffee under pressure she made idle small talk with the older woman.

"So, you come in here often looking like you haven't slept in days and ordering rocket fuel?" She looked over her shoulder and quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you often wear virtually nothing in February?" Her crisp pronunciation that dropped no letters was utterly charming.

"I asked you first," the barista insisted, her eyes not leaving the lawmaker's for a second as she passed the steaming cup over the counter.

The older woman smirked. "Occasionally.

Emma smiled and nodded. "Also occasionally."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The answer to your question is also occasionally. Only occasionally do I wear next to nothing in winter." She stuck out her hand. "The name's Emma. Who might you be?"

"Regina Mills," the older woman replied cautiously, though her handshake was warm and real in a way you didn't often get in this town.

"Ah, the Senator. David told me about you."

"All good, I hope." And with this Regina cracked a smile.

"Nothing but."

"And where is David this morning?"

"At home in bed, I presume."

A puzzled look crossed the senator's face. "He's usually here."

"Only on weekdays." Amused, Emma couldn't resist teasing the older woman. "He was right; you _are_ too absorbed to notice the world around you. It's Sunday, Madam Senator."

"Well then, Emma, you're lucky I noticed you at all, now aren't you?" the older woman shot back with a smile, dropping her change into the tip jar as she pivoted and sauntered out. "See ya."

 Emma watched her go, appreciating the fact that her lawmakerly pantsuit was excellently tailored and flattered some great curves.

**

"Hey, I'm sorry to ask this, but can I share your table?"  Emma ventured uncertainly.

Regina looked up, startled, then glanced around the cafe.

"Yeah, there aren't any open,"  Emma answered the unspoken question.

A tiny snort of laughter. "Sorry, that was somewhat rude. It's just that I'm working. But sure, take a load off."

 Emma chuckled as she sat at the expression and the way it seemed so out of place with the senator's crisp speech. "Where are you from?"

" _I_ am the junior senator from Montana," she replied, and it was clear that this was the right answer to the question in _this_ town, but not necessarily the most true.

"And what are you working on, junior senator from Montana?"

"I'm calling it the Range Ranching Act, though I'm open to title suggestions."

The woman's candor was refreshing, and therefore endearing; Emma had to smile. "And what does it do?"

Regina shrugged, elegantly. "Subsidies and tariffs. It's complicated and boring."

"Fair enough." They lapsed into a companionable silence, Emma doing her best to have a relaxing break and Regina going back to her work.

"So why me?" The senator asked abruptly a minute or two later.

"Huh?"

"Clearly you had to share a table with someone, but why me?"

"Well, you're the best option."

"Oh?"

Emma leaned in conspiratorially. "Three potentially screaming, spilling, sticky children," she noted, tippping her head at them, "so all of those tables and the ones nearby are out. In the middle is the gaggle of philosophy grad students. They don't let you sit with them if you can't read at least three languages. By the door is Flirty Frankie, who would fuck you as soon as look at you and has a special soft spot for me. Right behind me are the So-In-Loves."

"Is that a last name? Sowenlove?"

"No. So In Love. I don't know their names, but they are in that stage of their relationship when you wish they'd just stay in. Yet they're here every Saturday like clockwork, making cooing noises and making out. Then behind you is Chatty Cathy."

"Seriously? Flirty Frankie and Chatty Cathy?"

"His last name is Frankenstein.” At Regina’s look, she said, “Yes, really. But we just call her Chatty Cathy. Her name is actually Mary Margaret, and she's sort of lonely, and she will talk your ear off if she gets the chance. Sometimes I will listen, but I'm not in the mood for it today. Same goes for Mr. Breakup over there. Don't know his real name, but he's been in here a lot lately, sighing, staring out the window, writing what looks like poetry, and moping. His girlfriend broke up with him, and depending on what day you catch him she's either the bitch from hell or the most beautiful angel. Cannot handle that today."

"How do you know I won't do any of those things?"

"I don't. But I'll risk it." A beat, then Emma asked, "You're not, are you?"

"What?"

"Going to spill your coffee on me or regale me with stories about your ex?"

The senator's face clouded up. "Ah, no. I am- free of exes."

Emma felt a twinge of guilt and more than a twinge of concern. "I'm sorry. What'd I say? Are you alright?"

"It's fine, you couldn't have known. I'm a widow."

"Fuck, I'm sorry." She looked at the floor for a moment, then rose to go. "I gotta get back to work, so I'll let you work too, but can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Regina's smile was a little feeble.

"I'll bring you a refill. On the house."

That drew a more genuine smile. "Alright," the older woman conceded.

When the barista returned with the drink and held it out, the senator touched her hand as she took the cup, and their eyes locked. "You didn't have to do this."

"Yeah I did."

Regina gave  Emma's hand a quick squeeze, then accepted the drink. "Thanks." She brought it to her face and inhaled deeply, then took a sip, and the way her eyes closed in pleasure as she rolled the coffee over her tongue was possibly the sexiest thing Emma had ever seen. The senator opened her eyes, and smiled. "Gifts taste better."

"That they do,"  Emma agreed, beating a hasty retreat back to the bar. She was not going to develop a crush on a customer. Just couldn't happen. Not going to fantasize about fucking her on the counter. No way, no how. She smiled at the elderly woman who was next in line. "What can I get you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody offered to help me not misrepresent US Senators, so probably I’m going to get the job part wrong. Sorry.
> 
> Also sorry that this update has been so slow. There are a lot of demands on my writing time all of a sudden.

“Are you communing with the triceratops, Madam Senator?” Emma found the wild-eyed startled look that she got when Regina turned kind of cute.

The older woman recovered quickly, however, and replied primly, “It struck me as a good place to think about the state of our national parks, monuments, and historic sites. And,” she added ruefully, “it makes it harder for the lobbyists to find me.”

“What’re you too good to think in a coffeeshop all of a sudden?” the blonde teased.

“My apologies, Miss Swan, I will surely work solely in your coffee shop from now on,” Regina sassed right back. Glancing at Emma’s companion, she gave a warm smile and asked, “And who might this be?”

“This is my son Henry,” the blonde explained, hauling him forward to meet the senator properly. “Henry, this is Senator Regina Mills.”

“So pleased to meet you,” the older woman said, standing to greet him and shake his hand. “My father’s name was Henry. What a lovely coincidence.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he replied politely, but gave Emma a knowing look as soon as the senator’s eyes left him.

“And what brings _you_ to the museum on a fine day like today?” Regina asked Emma.

“Kid’s got a school project _that he neglected to tell me about_ ,” she growled, elbowing him lightly. “So we’ve been wandering around looking at the dinosaurs.”

The senator turned to smile at the boy again, and god she was gorgeous when she did that. “A science project, I take it?”

“No, English actually.” He shrugged. “I’m writing a story.”

“How wonderful. Your mother must be so proud.” She turned her smile on Emma again, and the blonde felt her knees get weak. What politician was this genuine and adorable and how was Emma ever going to survive serving her coffee with this massive crush? Desperate to stare anywhere but at this painfully gorgeous woman, Emma checked her watch. Damn. “Come on kid, your dad’s expecting us soon.”

“Your- husband?” Regina asked, tentatively. That couldn’t be a little flicker of disappointment, could it?

Henry laughed. “Nah, they got divorced when Mom realized she was gay.”

“Henry! You can’t- you don’t- just- _out_ people in the Smithsonian!” Emma sputtered.

Regina chuckled for a moment, but suppressed it at Emma’s outraged look. “I’m sorry, but your indignation is rather charming.”

“Yeah, keep laughing at my pain, we’ll see if you get a free refill the next time you come in,” she mock pouted, then winked at the older woman.

Regina pressed a delicate hand to her chest. “You wound me, Miss Swan.”

Tearing her eyes away from finely-formed fingers on a silky shirt whose buttons just missed an unprofessional level of tension, Emma gave what she hoped was a polite smile and not a leer. “We do have to go,” she said regretfully. “But I’ll see you at Lattetude sometime soon I hope.”

“With a refill!” was Regina’s parting shot.

“You’re welcome,” Henry muttered as they walked away.

“What?” Emma was baffled.

_“I_ am the best wingman ever,” the boy declared smugly.

“Wingm-”

“Although it’s probably hopeless,” he went on. “She is _way_ outta your league.”

“That’s it. I’m going to _kill_ Neal.”

**

“Neal Cassidy Gold I’m gonna murder your ass,” she said as she rolled into the pawn shop he ran with his dad.

“Love you too, babe,” he deadpanned. They’d gotten married straight out of high school because it seemed like a good idea at the time, and they were now, as they’d always been, best friends. The five years they’d been married had been an ill-advised blip in an otherwise delightful 20-year bromance. But the unfortunate hetero-sex that had resulted had been worth it because it had given them Henry. “What’d I do?” he asked.

“I don’t appreciate you having conversations with our _son_ about wingmen and people being in each other’s league. He’s _twelve_ , Neal.” Emma was absolutely disgusted with him.

“Uh, mom-”

She turned a sharp look on the boy. “Henry, your parents are talking.”

“Yeah, but I got that from _Ruby_ , so how about you don’t take your frustration out on Dad.” Henry snorted. “It’s not _his_ fault you have the hots for Regina.”

Neal’s eyes lit up and he turned to Emma. “Regina? Do tell.”

“God, Neal, can you _focus_?”

“She’s super smokin’ hot, Dad,” Henry jumped right back in. “And smart. Definitely the best of the bunch since she kicked you to the curb.”

“Ouch, kid,” Neal groaned.

“See? When did he get so snarky?” Emma demanded.

**

"She's totally into you," David said as the senator retreated to what was becoming "her" table in the corner.

"Fuck you," Emma replied, incredulous.

"No, really. I saw her most weekdays for a _year_ , same time, like clockwork, and she never came in at _any_ time that you were working. Now she's in here at the same time as you at least once a _week_." He nodded sagely, or tried to. It wasn’t very convincing.

"People's habits change, David. It doesn't mean she wants me.” She paused, then snorted. “Besides, I think she's straight."

"Wouldn't be the first closet case on the Hill," he shrugged.

Emma laughed. "Nor the last. Alright, I'll entertain the possibility that she likes me." A beat. "Shit, I'll take Regina the Senator over Flirty Frankie any day of the week."

"That's just because you don't appreciate the wonders of cock," he teased, stepping through the doorway into the back room to grab more beans.

"I appreciate cock just fine,” she called after him. “It's penis that squidges me out. Silicone only, please and thank you. And you're one to _talk_ , Mr. Terrified of Pussy."

"Um?" 

Emma looked up from stocking the milk fridge to see Regina standing awkwardly at the counter and quickly turned several shades of red in succession. "Hi, uh, what can I do you- for you?" She smiled weakly as she stood.

"I think David gave me hazelnut instead of vanilla." She held out the latte.

Without thinking much about it, Emma took it from her and sipped. "Definitely hazelnut. I'll get you a new one." As she pulled the shots, she had to wonder why she had just nonchalantly drunk after Regina. That sort of went beyond unprofessional to creepy when she could have sniffed it, or taken the senator's word for it. She also had to wonder when exactly Regina had walked up, and how much she had heard.  Finishing the replacement latte, she handed it over. "All better," she said. "Sorry about that. I'll definitely give David a talking-to."

"And a spanking," the senator joked as she took the cup and turned to go.

Emma clutched at the counter to steady herself, glad Regina's back was turned. Between the mention of spanking and the way her hips were swaying as if she knew Emma's eyes were riveted to her ass, this woman was made of sex and going to be the death of her.

"Told you," David said, emerging from the storage area.

"Fuck off.” She scowled for a moment, and then had an evil inspiration. “Shall we go into the fact that Chatty Cathy is hopelessly crushed out on you?”

As she hoped, he got flustered immediately. “This conversation is entirely inappropriate.”

Emma pressed her advantage, hoping to keep the heat off herself as long as possible. “Nah, you don’t get to pull the staid, paternal act now. Mary Margaret is forever making _eyes_ at you.”

“Shut up, Swan,” he grumbled.

“Hey, isn’t your twin brother straight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dinosaurs are a Popcorn Love reference, obvs. And I haven’t even read it. 
> 
> Featuring the return of sassy!Henry from The Truth Always.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh hey, before I forget- Killian's having a release party for his film, on Saturday. You should come."

Emma looked up from wiping the counter and made a face at David. "I don't know, man. My evil manager makes me work at an unreasonable hour on Sunday mornings."

"Quick, somebody call the wah-mbulance," the manager sassed her right back.

She put on a long-suffering attitude. "David Nolan, killing my social life since 2009."

"Alright, alright. I'll switch you with Ruby so you can come." David went back to stocking the pastries, then said, overly casually, "Your senator will be there."

"OMG, I can't believe they made me a state before Puerto Rico,” the barista exclaimed in a mock-airhead voice. “But shouldn't I have _two_ senators?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"You seriously invited her?" Emma asked at her absolute driest.

David scoffed. "Uh, yeah. You never know who's going to end up in charge of arts funding, so I always work my capitol contacts for these things. I want to be able to let my fabulously successful filmmaker husband support us sooner rather than later, so I need a fabulously successful filmmaker husband."

"And you think she'll show." The barista was thoroughly skeptical.

The manager suddenly found the wall fascinating. "I may have led her to believe that you were coming."

"David Ryan Nolan! You didn't." She was utterly appalled.

"Ooh, the three name call. Yes, I did. And she seemed quite interested by that. So come by," he said, sidling away from her none too subtly. She realized why when he added, "And be sure to pack accordingly."

Though rendered speechless by his audacity, she managed to peg him with the sponge.

**

“That pussy better be worth it, Emma,” Ruby sassed when she arrived for her shift later that afternoon.

“What?” The blonde was utterly baffled.

“ _I_ can’t go out Saturday night, and I have to get up at a truly obscene hour on Sunday, so that you can go to this party. And that goes beyond what you do for your average cousin.” The brunette was decidedly _not_ a morning person. “So you _better_ fucking seal the deal and she had _better_ be worth it. That bitch better have pussy that tastes like apples or some shit.”

Emma laughed. “Love you, Rubes.” While they were actually second cousins, they’d been raised more or less as sisters since Emma was ten and Ruby four. As an infant, Emma had been lucky to survive the car crash that had killed her teen runaway parents, and none of her extended family had even known she existed. She languished in the foster system in Boston until her great aunt Eugenia, whom everybody called Granny, had come and plucked her out to live with her in DC.

“Yeah, well, you fucking owe me,” the younger woman growled, almost feral.

“I do,”’ Emma agreed sincerely. “I gotta run and get Henry, but thank you so, so much, and let me know what I need to do to make it up to you.”

The text that came in hours later just said “Apples and cinnamon!” but Emma knew what she meant and chuckled to herself.

**

“You’ve got it bad, Em,” Neal chuckled, leaning in the doorframe of her room.

Emma groaned. “Neal, come on man, don’t give me shit tonight.”

“You’ve tried on fourteen outfits. Fourteen. This is not the girl I married,” he said, shaking his head in mock-disappointment.

“Yeah, well, the girl you married thought she liked dick, so-” The absurdity of it caught her then, and she started laughing, joined by Neal.

“You really like her, huh?” He asked when they calmed down, smiling affectionately at her.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “It’s stupid. I barely know her. But there’s just something-”

“It’s just a feeling that you have that says, _this one_.” His look was freighted with meaning. She knew he still loved her romantically, that probably he always would despite the fact that in theory they’d both moved on. She ached for him, because she loved him too, just not like that.

 “Yeah,” she confirmed quietly.

“Yeah,” he echoed, scuffing his boot on the floor.

**

"Hello love!" Killian exclaimed in his Irish brogue, throwing his arms around Emma. "So glad you could make it! It's lovely to see you!"

 “Killian, personal space,” she sighed as she leaned her face away from his stubble. “You’re a married man.”

He scoffed. “David understands that I have a soft spot for you.”

“But sweetie, it’s not mutual. I love you to bits, but no touching.” She gave him a tight smile.

“Fine,” Killian huffed, letting her go.

 "Congrats on finishing your film,” she said warmly and genuinely, eager to change the subject. “I can't wait to see it."

His grumpiness vanished instantly at the ego-stroking. "You are just in time. We're about to start the screening." Then, glancing over her shoulder, he called to another newcomer, "Oh my god! Where have you been, wench? I haven't seen you in forever!" Turning back to Emma, he said, "I’ve got to go greet, but grab a drink and find a seat," then fluttered off.

In the kitchen of the spacious loft David and Killian shared was Regina, who had been cornered by one of Killian's friends that Emma had never cared for, a blonde bisexual goth high femme who could only hear "No" when it was pronounced "I'm seeing someone." The senator was looking quite overwhelmed. Grabbing a local microbrew she liked, the barista went to the older woman's rescue.

"There you are, sweetie," she said, sliding an arm around Regina's shoulders and giving her a significant look in the hopes that she would understand and play along. "I've been looking all over." Turning to Goth Femme, she said, "I'm sorry, I know we've met, but you are?"

"Mal," she huffed, then looked accusingly at Regina. "You might have told me you had a girlfriend," she sniped, and then flounced off.

Once she was out of the room, Emma dropped her arm, sure she didn't mean to brush her hand against the small of Regina's back as she went. "Sorry," she explained. "She's kind of aggressive and being taken is the only thing that works. She'll go find another victim now."

"Thanks for the rescue."

"Any time." They looked at each other for a long moment, until Emma remembered, "The screening is about to start. We should go make sure we get a good view."

"Lead on," Regina said, gesturing for her to proceed.

**

Emma heard her phone give the tone assigned to Henry and smiled apologetically at Regina. “Sorry, it’s my kid. I have to check it.” As soon as looked at it, she scoffed.

“What?” The senator looked adorably concerned.

The blonde waved a hand. “Nothing. My son seems to have started his teenage assholery early.”

“Oh?” Regina was curious now.

“You really don’t want to know,” Emma hedged.

“No, I do,” the older woman insisted.

“Ah, well-” the barista sputtered, “He reminds me to use protection.”

To Emma’s surprise, the senator laughed. “Well I am wearing a bulletproof vest.”

The blonde’s eyes went immediately to the older woman’s chest. “Where do you keep it?”

“It’s a joke, dear. Eyes up.”

“Ah- um-” Emma felt herself redden as she caught sight of Regina’s smirk. “Good one!” She cleared her throat and tried to change the subject. “I thought Neal put Henry up to it, but he really is generating this stuff on his own.”

The senator blinked. “Neal?”

“His dad. My ex.” Emma felt a little embarrassed explaining for some reason.

“How wonderful for Henry to have him in his life still,” Regina said, and there was a hint of politician insincerity around the edges.

Emma shrugged. “He’s my best friend. Ever since I moved to DC when I was 10. Marrying him was a _huge_ mistake, but,” and she chuckled, “now that we’ve gotten it dialed back to bromance we’re golden.”

The senator chuckled too. “That sounds nice. I don’t get to see much of my best friend these days. I have a rather demanding job, as you may know.”

"Yeah, how is it that you get to run around unattended anyway?" Emma asked, just buzzed enough to be direct.

"Hm?"

"You’re having a night out like a regular person. Shouldn't you have aides and handlers and press people and whatever?" The blonde made a vague gesture.

The senator took a sip from the wine glass she held, looked at Emma very seriously, and said, "You watch too much TV."

The barista laughed. "Come on, you have a staff right?"

"Yes," Regina conceded, "but they don't need to hold my hand when I take an evening and relax. There are a few loose ends that need tying up, but I am on the technological leash, and Sidney will call me if there’s a vote," she said, nodding at her purse nearby.

Emma feigned outrage. "They work while you play? You're more heartless than David."

Regina looked up sharply, but relaxed at Emma's expression, clearly teasing. She teased right back, "No dear, heart-crushing. Fear my wrath."

Chance eye contact turned into sustained staring, and Emma caught herself leaning in for a kiss. "Oh I do," she said, quickly looking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update slow again, but they should be picking up. I think I'll have another on Tuesday and if not then Friday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story makes “Mills” be Daniel’s last name and not Regina’s birth name. I have my reasons. 
> 
> This Regina is also measurably older than Lana. But then, I think canon!Regina has to be measurably older than Lana too.

Emma felt a touch on her shoulder and was surprised to see Regina, having assumed that the senator had long since left the party. The older woman leaned in and spoke close to her ear. "I think I had a couple too many. Do you think you could take me home?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Emma sputtered, firmly reminding herself not to read too much into it.

"I'm sorry to ask, but I only know you and David-" the senator stopped, uncertain.

The blonde smiled at her. "It's no problem at all. Really."

**

Closing the door of Regina's townhouse behind them, Emma turned to the older woman and began, "Hey, are you going to be alri-" only to find herself silenced by the insistent press of the senator's mouth.

The kiss was a little boozy and a little sloppy and a little desperate, but it was enough to fan the desire that had been smoldering deep in the blonde’s chest into knee-buckling want. She gave in to it, letting her hands roam over Regina's body while backing her up to the wall of the foyer. Emma pinned her there with a knee against the wall and a hip against her sex, and when the older woman moaned into her mouth she was glad it wasn't possible to die from sheer wanting.

A heated minute later, Emma felt Regina's hands fumbling between them and pulled back to look at her, concerned that the senator had changed her mind and was trying to push her away. But the older woman was unbuttoning her own shirt, and Emma gladly palmed the warm skin as it was exposed. She was a bit surprised when Regina arched her back to unhook her bra, but pleasantly, and even more so when the fingers of one elegant hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her down to breast height. "Please?" Emma got the hint, and was rewarded by a deep groan when she took the nearest nipple into her mouth.

Unable to continue grinding into Regina as she sucked and nipped at her breast, Emma pulled at the older woman's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping just enough to slide a hand in. "Oh god," she groaned, finding the senator sopping. She’d clearly been thinking about this all night.

"Yes," Regina hissed, bucking against the blonde’s hand as the barista traced circles around her clit, and when Emma managed to torque her wrist enough to slip inside, the senator grabbed at the wall to steady herself. "I can't keep standing," she panted.

Somewhat reluctantly, the barista pulled her hand and mouth away from their delicious occupations and tipped her head at Regina to lead the way. The senator did, shucking out of the rest of her clothes as she walked through the house.

Seeing Emma's perplexed look as they passed through the living room and continued down the hall, Regina said dryly, "I’m not going to fuck on the couch when there is a perfectly good bed." The blonde laughed.

When actually standing before said perfectly good bed, however, Regina seemed to lose her nerve, turning back uncertainly to face to Emma. The barista just smirked as she crossed the room, dropped to her knees, and pulled the senator's hips to her mouth. She gave one slow lick, closing her eyes in pleasure at how fucking good this was, then looked up past the slight curve of Regina’s stomach and her perfect, firm breasts to meet bright brown eyes and murmured, "Sit down before you fall down."

With Regina then safely splayed on the bed, Emma hooked both arms under her thighs to pull her tight to her mouth and began devouring her in earnest. God damn the senator was responsive, and having her mouth full of Regina was incredibly better than Emma could ever have imagined. She stroked her slow and steady for a while, then amped it up to quick flicks of her tongue, turning moans from low in the senator’s chest into little breathy sounds. When she switched to sucking at her clit at the same time as she brushed intent circles on it, Regina’s hips started twitching like crazy and her voice took on almost a whimpering tone. Emma felt like a virtuoso playing a finely-tuned instrument, she could read Regina’s needs so well.

“God-” the senator panted. “Inside- fuck me- please-”

Emma moaned into her pussy at that, and brought one hand up to slip a finger in. The older woman was so wet she could add a second immediately, and then a third very soon after. Fuck it was good, Regina clutching at her fingers as she pushed in steady-sweet and curled against her g-spot and tongued her intently. Between the older woman's moans and her fingers tangled in the barista's hair and the way her muscles twitched uncontrollably, Emma was nearly as delirious.

"God, yes, I'm gonna-" and then the senator was gone, her body arching as her orgasm shuddered through her.

Emma started to pull out, but Regina reached down and kept her where she was, so the barista just remained kneeling between the older woman's legs, nuzzling and kissing her thighs, feeling the hard throb of her pulse.  After a few moments, the senator propped herself up on her elbows and pinned Emma with a hungry look.

"Yes?" the blonde drawled.

"Don't be coy. Get your clothes off, and then get up here," the older woman demanded.

Looking up the length of Regina's body, Emma thought that was a great idea, but she wanted to make it clear that she was complying because she wanted to. Withdrawing her fingers, she lapped slowly at them as she unbuttoned her shirt with the other hand, her eyes never leaving the older woman's, still dilated with lust. By this point, the blonde had become impatient with her own contrariness, and she stripped the rest of her clothes rapidly before sliding one thigh between the senator's and claiming her mouth once more.

They quickly built a rhythm, each thigh pressed against where the other was slick, rocking together. Before long Regina was at a fever pitch again. "I need you inside me," she demanded.

"You need me inside you, please," Emma corrected, more than happy to provide the penetration but wanting to nip this particular power dynamic in the bud.

"Oh come on,” the senator scoffed.

“Please.” Emma insisted, ceasing her motion against the older woman’s pussy but continuing to roll her own on one firm thigh as she positioned her hand so that the tips of her fingers just brushed where Regina wanted her the most. She watched the senator’s eyes flick from the hand at her sex to her eyes to her breasts, bouncing slightly with the force of her hip motion.

“Please," Regina moaned desperately, and Emma slid in as far as she could go before the word was even completed. She began thrusting quickly and deeply, her arm aided both by the force of her own canting and the way the senator's hips rose to meet her.

"That wasn't so hard," Emma managed to pant out after a moment, just barely able to keep her own focus. She felt herself getting closer to the edge; she felt the older woman’s slick internal muscles clutching at her tighter and tighter. "Be a good girl, or I'll make you ask permission to come."

And then Regina was coming again, even more forcefully than before, and Emma was right behind her and they became a tangle of sweaty skin that the casual observer would no longer be able to sort into bodies.

Keeping her fingers where they were without being told this time, the blonde took a moment to catch her breath, then ran the knuckles of the other hand over the senator's cheekbones, nose, lips, then leaned down to kiss gently along her jaw. Nipping at the older woman's chin, she kissed down the other side, only to find it saltier than it should have been. Looking up, she could see tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes.

"Hey, don't cry." That was stupid, but it was what she could think of.

Regina sniffed and gave her a weak smile. "I'm sorry, it's not you. It's just, I haven't been with anybody since Daniel-"

"Oh, wow. Uh. I hope it was acceptable," Emma sputtered.

"More than acceptable. I don't think I've ever come so hard in my life." The senator smiled in utter contentment, but then got serious. "We can never do this again."

Emma felt like the air had been knocked out of her. "What?"

"I'm not gay," the senator insisted, setting her jaw.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Pulling out remarkably gently given her agitation, the barista rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed, her back to the senator. "Don't give me this shit."

"I'm just not. I'm sorry, I-” and she gave a little scoff of an exhale. “And I’m up for reelection!"

"Reelection." Emma was incredulous.

"I'm a Democratic senator from a very red state who got the job because my husband died in office. Even being reelected to a full term on my own the last time is bound up in the fact that people loved Daniel Mills, horse-ranching Republican extraordinaire,” and there was noticeable bitterness in her tone. “I simply _cannot_ become a lesbian. This was just an alcohol-fueled lapse in judgment," she insisted.

Regina was clearly trying to convince herself as much as Emma, but the barista had had enough. She rose and hurriedly began to dress. "You know what, I gotta go. I'll see you around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is in some sense the flip side of Only You, with Regina being in denial. But it’s a total coincidence, since those parts of the story I wrote around 5 years ago, in the second iteration of this story (this is the third).
> 
> I thought I'd be able to start updating faster, but at the same time that my schedule has now opened up this is also just about the end of the part of this story I already had written. No longer than a week for Ch 5, and I hope much sooner.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma looked up, startled, as something vaguely country-music-like started coming over the cafe's speakers. Ordinarily the musical choices at Lattetude were decidedly more hipster. Then she listened to the words.

  _Lord, she was tall, hair dark as midnight_

_She had a way just like you do_

_To make me feel just like a woman should_

"Fuck you, David," Emma spat, practically tearing her apron off and throwing it at him.

"Oh come on. I know she’s not _tall_ , but those fuck-me heels add like four inches!" The manager laughed, but then his face fell as she continued to scowl at him, half way out the employee exit. "It's funny!" he insisted, like he was trying to convince her, or maybe like he was trying to reassure himself. Then he was just confused. "Where are you going?"

"To have a fucking smoke."

A short while later, David followed her out, having apparently left Aurora the perky trainee in charge. "I thought you quit," he said, sitting down beside her on the fire escape of the building next door. When Emma just grunted noncommittally at him, he asked, "What's going on? You _did_ hook up with Regina the other night, right? I mean, you guys were making serious eyes at each other. And when you left together-"

"Yeah well she can _never_ do it again," the barista snarled, "'cause she's just _not_ gay."

The manager gave a rueful whistle. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"And because if she does she'll _never_ get reelected. What kind of fucked up shit is that?" Emma honestly had no idea if she was angry or just hurt.

“Oh sweetie," he sighed, throwing a comforting arm around her shoulder. "And here we were joking about closet cases. This town is such a goddamn mess.”

“It really fucking is.”

**

Emma knew she had it bad because she took Ruby up on her offer to go out that night when she usually took a pass because she couldn’t keep up with her cousin’s partying. She then proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk.

“Fuck her,” she sneered once she was a few drinks in.

“That’s the spirit, Ems,” Ruby approved. “That bitch doesn’t know what she’s giving up in taking a pass on Emma Swan. Fuck her!”

“I _did_ fuck her!” the blonde exclaimed.

“I’ll drink to that!” They did, Emma taking an especially long pull at her beer. “Bet she didn’t even taste like apples,” Ruby joked.

“No, she tasted like pussy.” Emma sighed. “God, I love pussy.”

“I know you do, babe,” the younger woman hummed, rubbing her back soothingly. “But hey, there’s plenty more pussy in the sea.”

“But I like this one,” the blonde whined. “She was so goddamn responsive. I bet I could have made her come six, eight times, easy.”

Ruby made a face. Even cousin-sister-y-galpal girltalk had its limits. “Alright, yeah,” she nodded. “So tonight we grieve the loss of this particular piece of ass.”

“God her ass is a masterpiece.” Emma breathed, then exclaimed, “Ass-terpiece!” She took another long drink.

“Sure!”

The toasts kept coming. “To the straining button of everlasting promise on those damn professional shirts!”

“Yeah!”

 “To that perfect fucking lip scar I just want to lick!”

"Okay!" Ruby gestured at the bartender to keep them coming, and Emma appreciated it. It turned out her sorrows could swim.

**

“What in the hell happened to you?” Between the volume and the anger in the tone, it pierced Emma’s skull, and she groaned.

“Ugh, Granny, not so loud.” Fuck, that voice hurt, too, but now the blonde had it narrowed down that this was Granny and Ruby. And figuring that out was good, because she couldn’t begin to ponder opening her eyes. She hadn’t been this hung over in as long as she could remember.

"You're passed out in my living room. I'll speak at any volume I please,” the old woman scoffed. “And _you_ , Emma. I expect shenanigans from Ruby even if she _is_ old enough to know better, but you're a mother! I suppose you palmed poor Henry off on Neal last night." Emma couldn’t muster another argument about why she “divorced that poor boy” and “strung him along” by still sharing an apartment despite the incompatibility between DC rent and her barista job and how she should put Henry first as if she didn’t, so she just groaned again.

"Em got her heart broken, Grams. We went out to drown her sorrows,” her cousin explained, then conceded, “And maybe we got a little carried away."

"Oh you poor thing.” Granny’s tone shifted immediately from irritated to concerned. “Let me make you breakfast." Ruby's explanation was a little overstated given how barely-budding the relationship with Regina had been, but Emma was definitely not going to turn down Granny's breakfast. Aunt Eugenia could _cook_ and her stomach would damn well stay put for it.

**

Weeks passed with no sign of the senator on Emma's shift—or any other time, she knew because David and Ruby well-meaningly kept her posted. The blonde went through the stages. She snapped at people for a little while, which Henry did not hesitate to call her on, and she let him because he was right. Then she moped for a little while. But then she made herself get the fuck over it because really all she had lost was a possibility. At least, that was what she kept telling herself, because having this degree of attachment to somebody she barely knew couldn’t possibly be healthy, no matter how hot a lay she’d been.

And then suddenly one day Regina was there, obscenely early on a Sunday morning just as it had been the very first time they’d met.

"Hello," the older woman ventured uncertainly as she approached the counter.

"Hey." Emma's response was guarded, and she tried to keep her face blank. She was torn between anger and hope, but she couldn’t afford to show either.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Regina confessed nearly in a whisper, the words rushing out of her as if she’d had to get her nerve up.

"Good for you," Emma countered. "What do you want?" she asked, tipping her head at the menu board to make it clear she wanted to keep this to a customer-employee transaction.

"I want to make things right between us," the senator murmured with an expression Emma couldn’t quite read. Haunted? Terrified? Determined? Maybe a mix of all three.

Since the shop was nearly empty, the blonde didn’t pull her punches in the name of professionalism. "You know, we're fresh outta second chances today,” she growled. “Can I get you something else? From the _menu_?" Emma knew it was a little too pointed, but couldn’t help herself.

Regina winced. "I deserved that." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, you know,” and she gulped, “afterward. I- I panicked.” Her honesty and the fact that she was trying despite her obvious discomfort made Emma melt just a little, but she hurriedly shoved the feeling down.

“Can we talk about this, please?" the senator went on.

“It took you long enough to decide I was worth coming back to talk to,” the blonde sneered.

Regina sighed. “I know it looks that way, but it’s election season. I’ve been in Montana campaigning. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and feeling awful for how I left things.”

Emma’s resolve softened, finding the pleading look in those bright brown eyes hard to resist. The older woman seemed to sense that she had an opportunity and pushed a little farther. "I really do want to talk through this and give  you the apology you deserve, but this is really neither the time nor the place. Can I make you dinner tonight, perhaps?"

"That depends." Emma waited just long enough to make the older woman twitch, and then continued. "Can you cook?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Gin Blossoms, Cheatin’.
> 
> I discovered this morning that all the work I did for the past 2 days on Chapter 6 (i.e. completing it) is gone. It's gonna take a little while to get it back, sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

"I just feel like I need to say that I didn't invite you here to have sex,” Regina launched in as soon as she’d closed the door behind Emma. “Certainly, it was wonderful, but-” she trailed off, then started again, “I- I wanted to make it up to you for being so abrupt, and-" She looked so lost and tortured and it pierced the blonde in a way she wouldn’t have anticipated.

"Regina," Emma cut in. "Regina, look at me." She reached out and gripped the older woman by both arms, just above her elbows, and held her steady for a moment before continuing. "Relax. We're just two people having dinner. People who enjoy each other's company. Friends. They're not going to put your face on the cover of next week's _Advocate_. And frankly, I could fuck you on every horizontal surface in this house and nobody would ever know if we didn't want them to."

Regina’s breath hitched at that and the blonde honestly couldn’t tell if it was desire or terror, so she released her grasp.  

Now it was Emma’s turn to stumble over her words. “Sorry, that was a little- I mean, I’m not suggesting that we _will_ , because obviously you don’t want to. Just that if we _did_ it would stay between us.”

“The crazy thing is, I think I do,” Regina said almost inaudibly.

“What?” the blonde was suddenly unable to breathe.

“I think, perhaps, that I _do_ want to,” the senator said, picking her way over the words like a minefield. “Not on every surface, but I- my mind has been quite insistent in suggesting that I be _with_ you again.” She stopped, her eyes widening at herself. “Which is absolutely insane and I have no idea why I am telling you.”

Emma swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “I’d like to. I mean, not just the sex,” she hastened to clarify. “I’d like to see who we could be to each other. We could keep it very quiet.”

"Why do those seem like famous last words?" Regina asked, leading her into the living room finally.

Emma laughed ruefully. "That’s a fair point. I guess you've just gotta take this stuff on faith."

The senator raised an elegant eyebrow at that. "I don't know you well enough and I know this town too well to have that kind of faith."

“I don’t know what to tell you, Regina,” the blonde said, shrugging. “I can say that I really like you. And I felt like we had a lot of potential. And I wouldn’t do anything _deliberately_ to hurt you, and I wouldn’t out you, and I would be careful.” She paused, spreading her hands out. “But yeah, all you have is my word on that.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Regina began to pace the room. Emma just watched her, not sure whether to marshal her arguments or cut her losses and leave now. The older woman was hot, no doubt about it, but whether she was worth this was another question.

"I'm not a lesbian," the senator insisted suddenly, sitting down and putting her head in her hands.

The barista refrained from reminding her that she'd been plenty gay when she had come all over Emma's face. "Okay. Maybe you're bisexual. Maybe you're heteroflexible. Maybe you're just a spaghetti girl."

"Spaghetti girl?"

"Straight until wet, like the pasta," she explained.

"This is not the time for jokes," the older woman snapped.

Emma tipped her head, conceding the point. "The point is, the fact that you and I had some really good sex doesn’t have to give you an identity crisis."

Regina smiled. "It was really good, wasn't it?" She shook her head. "What am I saying? I can't do this. I'm not gay."

Emma sighed. "Fine. You're not. But _you_ kissed me. And you kept coming in when I was working. And you checked me out the very first time we met. So regardless of whether you like women in general, you clearly like me. You like me enough to come back and apologize and invite me to dinner and say that you can't stop thinking about me." She crossed the room and knelt in front of Regina. "And I like _you_. I like to make you smile. And I like to take care of you. I'm not a sex scandal waiting to happen."

"That's debatable," the senator countered, but there was the barest hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. She sighed. "I'm out of practice at this."

"It's like riding a bike," Emma assured, taking the older woman's hands in hers.

"It better be," Regina said, leaning down to kiss Emma softly. 

**

They started oh-so-cautiously doing something that resembled dating. Cautiously and _intermittently_ , because Regina’s campaign schedule had her out of DC almost more than in it and actually doing her job as a duly elected representative of her state took up a lot of time too. Emails and texts and calls became a trickle, then a flood, though the senator had been excruciatingly clear that nothing should ever go in writing beyond what a friend would say.

At last they managed to schedule a date night—in, of course. Emma brought the movie and Regina cooked, because as it turned out _damn_ could Regina cook. When the door was firmly closed behind her, the blonde greeted the older woman with a quick hug and a peck on the lips, knowing that she was still somewhat skittish.

“Desert Hearts?” Regina asked as the barista set the DVD case down on the breakfast bar to pour herself a glass of wine.

 “Although it has the most unintentionally awkward sex scene ever put on film, it reminded me of you because it’s set in the Mountain West. I mean, Reno, but-”

Regina shot her a look that was somewhere between irritated and fond, and she just grinned back.

**

Emma had, of course, entirely forgotten about the scene where Vivian gets going on how her professional reputation was going to be ruined for a lapse in judgment. Wincing, she sneaked a sideways glance at Regina to see if it was hitting too close to home, but the senator was riveted. And so fucking beautiful in the light from the TV that the blonde’s breath caught.

When the film got around to it, it was, indeed, still the single most awkward sex scene ever—too abrupt, too quiet, too disjointed—but when Cay stated kissing down over Vivian’s jaw all Emma could think about was doing the same to Regina, the way her breath would hitch and her hands clutch.

As the credits rolled, Regina turned to her and commented, “That was sweet, thank you for sharing it with me” before leaning in to kiss her. They were just soft presses and brushes of lips at first, and the blonde let the older woman take the lead, not wanting to push too hard. But soon they were kissing deep and sweet, Emma cupping Regina’s face in both hands, the senator moving to straddle her lap. The barista didn’t know how long they spent losing themselves in adoring each other’s mouths before the older woman murmured, “Take me to bed.”

This felt like their real first time. They undressed each other slowly, Emma greeting the older woman’s newly-revealed skin with kisses and Regina running warm hands over her in return. Crawling onto the bed together, Emma pressed full-length skin-to-skin against the senator for the first time and they made little pleased noises in stereo. There was more kissing now, the blonde’s thigh pressing steady-sweet against the older woman until her hips began to move.

Emma took that as her cue to kiss over Regina’s chin-jaw-neck, rewarded with exactly the sighing and eager hands she had imagined. Continuing her downward exploration, the blonde discovered that the senator’s nipples were nearly as sensitive as her clit, making her gasp immediately as the barista licked a slow stripe across one breast and then the other, then blew on each nipple. Emma watched with eager eyes as they became perfectly erect, and when she took one into her mouth, Regina moaned and cupped the back of her head. The blonde sucked and bit at one nipple and then the other, back and forth until the older woman was writhing and breathing, “Please.”

Emma grinned up at her and then began crawling down her body. As she settled between her thighs, she couldn’t help but _stare_ for a long, long moment at her gorgeous pussy, open and wet and ready and  _hers_ , before her need to taste her became too strong. The blonde couldn’t help moaning at the first contact, but it was echoed by the older woman.

Her mouth kept trying to curve into a smile, making it hard to actually tongue the senator. She made long, slow strokes, down to her opening and up to her clit, curling her tongue as she reversed the direction, her touch soft, but direct. The older woman was so slick and so hot and shuddering so hard and goddamn she never wanted to stop eating this exquisitely responsive pussy.

As she traced questioning fingers against Regina's opening, the senator just pushed toward her. Slipping in, was captivated all over again with how good it felt to be inside her. The older woman’s hips were soon bucking uncontrollably and the barista had to wrap an arm around one thigh to even keep her mouth on her. God, Regina was so fucking beautiful like this, mewling, needy, wrecked.

And when she came, her body arching clear off the bed, it was the most beautiful, perfect thing Emma had ever- fucking- seen.

The blonde crawled back up and stroked Regina’s neck and shoulders with her nose, cheeks, lips for long moments as she trembled with aftershocks. But soon the older woman was looking at her eagerly, pushing her over onto her back, climbing on top. This was the first time the senator had really explored Emma’s body, and she was thorough about it, mapping every inch with fingertips and kisses and then increasingly enthusiastic nipping and sucking at sensitive skin until Emma’s body was twitching hard and she breathed, “Regina.”

The older woman smiled up at her, and began to slide down, only to freeze when settled between her legs. Seeing the anxiety in her eyes, Emma guided her cheek to rest against one upraised thigh.

“You don’t have to,” she soothed.

“I want to,” the senator insisted. “But I don’t know how.”

“You know what you like. Start there,” she suggested, smiling down at her. “And then just read me.”

Regina nodded, and Emma forgot to breathe in anticipation as she brought her mouth down. When the older woman made a first slow swipe of her tongue it was so good she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed at the moan it pulled from her throat. Then the senator was licking in earnest, so enthusiastic, moaning into her, staring up at her, and god, it was amazing. Soon the blonde’s eyes fluttered shut at how incredible Regina’s mouth felt on her, giving herself up to the waves of sensation.

“Fingers?” the older woman asked after long moments of this. Emma’s eyes found her again, and her whole lower face was shiny, and her eyes were so full of desire that all the blonde could do was moan, “Fuck, yes.”

Then Regina was inside her and her tongue was so relentless for many long, searingly good moments, and then she was clenching in an orgasm that seemed to explode along every nerve at once.

Almost delirious in the afterglow, Emma was dimly aware of the senator moving up beside her, snuggling her head against the blonde’s shoulder. As she obligingly wrapped the older woman up in her arms, Regina suddenly said, “Tell me about your tattoo.”

“Oh,” the barista gave a little chuckle. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“Major cultural appropriation. But, you know, add it to the list of dumb things I did when I was 18, like getting married and not using protection.” At Regina’s appalled look, she hastened to explain. “I mean, I love Henry, but I would have liked to be a little older before he was in my life. There were a lot of things I didn’t get to do getting pregnant that young.”

“That’s fair,” the older woman conceded, but there was a little edge of something like longing around her eyes. Emma realized that if the senator had harbored maternal ambitions they were likely thoroughly derailed by her career at this point. “He seems like a lovely young man,” Regina went on.

“He is. I think you two would like each other if that one brief meeting is any indication,” the blonde replied.

The senator fell silent for a long moment, then blurted suddenly. “You should bring him by sometime. We could do dinner all together. And a game night, or something.”

Emma tilted her head to kiss Regina’s forehead and murmured, “That sounds wonderful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the reason Ch 6 took so long to write (and then reconstruct) was that it’s almost twice as long as a usual installment. But the first bit was too short to stand alone as a chapter, so this is how it turned out. I'm sure you're sad.
> 
> I think I can swing updates every 4 days going forward. So look for the next one 07.03.


	7. Chapter 7

It was another week and a half before they could schedule a time for Regina, Emma, and Henry to all spend an evening together.

 _I’m really looking forward to it_ , Regina texted that afternoon. _I sent an intern out for Scrabble._

Emma cocked her head at her phone and wrote back, **Scrabble?**

 _It’s educational. Henry likes to write, doesn’t he?_ came the reply.

**You’re kind of a nerd, you know that?**

_I’m delightful_ , the senator insisted, and of course she was right.

**

Indeed, as predicted, Regina and Henry did get along swimmingly, not least because they bounced off each other in teasing Emma while mother and son sat at the breakfast bar watching the senator put the finishing touches on dinner. The barista had been reassigned to the entertainment of the chef after nearly cutting off her fingers while staring at Regina’s ass the last time she tried to help.

“And I believe we’re just about ready,” the older woman announced at last.

“I’ll set the table, Regina,” Henry offered. Emma smiled at him, because he really was a sweet, thoughtful kid if you took out his habit of giving the people he loved shit whenever he got the chance.

“What a little prince!” Regina replied, impressed. As left the kitchen carrying plates and silverware, she turned to Emma and murmured, “Good job there, mom.”

“Why thank you, Madam Senator,” the blonde sassed back, leaning over the counter to kiss her. Regina checked to make sure Henry was out of sight, then pressed their lips together sweetly, if all too briefly for Emma’s liking.

**

“How did your story turn out, Henry?” Regina asked during what, given how competitive they all were, had turned out to be a spirited round of Scrabble.

“My teacher wants me to submit it to the school magazine. She said I have a knack for imagery,” the boy announced proudly.

Regina looked thoughtfully at him for a moment, then got up from the table. “Let me lend you a book,” she said, crossing the room to the shelf. “It’s one of my favorites. He’s a poet, not a short story writer, but he does the most amazing things with imagery.” On her way back, she snagged a pair of reading glasses off an end table.

Putting them on, she opened the well-worn book, then paused because Emma was staring at her with what she could _feel_ was a stupid grin. “What?” she asked, clearly perplexed.

“Nothing. I’m just overwhelmed by how adorable you are in those glasses,” the blonde said.

“Emma!” the senator admonished with a slight inclination of her head toward Henry.

The boy snorted. “That’s nothing, Regina. Really, I’m mostly worried about getting sick because you guys are so cute.”

Emma chuckled. “Thanks, kid.” Turning back to the older woman, she prompted, “The book?”

“Right. Okay. This is my favorite: So much depends . . . upon . . .  a red wheel . . . barrow . . . glazed with rain . . . water . . . beside the white . . . chickens.”

“Wow,” Emma and Henry breathed in stereo, then caught each other’s eye and chuckled.

“William Carlos Williams, huh?” Emma asked as the senator set the book down beside Henry.

“Puertorriqueño on one side, like me,” Regina explained, and Emma knew it was exoticizing to find that roll of the R sexy.

**

Two weeks later, Emma checked for the umpteenth time that the main kitchen-living-dining area of their apartment was clean.

“Em, if you vibrate at any higher of a frequency the USGS is going to pick you up on the Richter Scale,” Neal laughed.

“Don’t be a dick. It’s not a crime to want things to be nice. Particularly since Regina’s place is always spotless.” It didn’t help that she was running nearly on empty both emotionally and sleep-wise. Last night had brought the latest in a series of torturous late night phone calls with Regina trying to grapple with what their relationship meant for her and worrying about the risk to her career.

“I’m sure she pays people to keep her house clean. Chill out. She likes you.” He chuckled. “Clearly, given your late nights.”

The blonde glared at him. “Sh! Ixnay on the ex-say. Henry’s home.”

“Mom, I do _know_ Pig Latin,” the kid in question said dryly as he walked out of his room. “I also understand that you and Regina, you know, even though you’re my mom and- ew.”

Emma was still gaping at him when there was a knock on the door, saving her from trying to figure out what the hell to say to him.

As she went to kiss Regina hello, the senator spotted Neal and turned her head slightly so it would land on her cheek. Emma understood, even as it stung a little.

“Regina, meet Neal,” she said as he took the older woman’s coat. “Henry’s dad and my best friend.”

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Neal said, striding forward to shake her hand.

“And you,” the senator replied, though Emma could see a little strain around her eyes that simply wasn’t there when it was just the two of them, or even the previous time they’d had a night in with Henry.

They all stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then Neal said, “Well, I’m gonna get going” and began moving toward the door.

“I don’t want to chase you out of your own home, Neal,” Regina said, looking somewhat stricken.

“No, I have a date. It’s fine. And Emma and I have been navigating this stuff for years. We have it down to an art. But it is very sweet of you to worry.” He smiled. “Emma did good.”

“So it would seem,” the senator replied, smiling her genuine smile at him for the first time, and something clicked into place.

**

Emma ordered delivery Chinese, having had better sense than to attempt cooking when she was this strung out. But she did have them eat at the table with actual dishes in what she realized was an utterly transparent attempt to not look like a cretin in front of Regina. By half way through dinner, when the wheels had not come off, the blonde had loosened up considerably. Being also half way through her second beer helped too. But she put her game face on as they transitioned to after-dinner video games.

“Ha!” the barista exclaimed as she beat Henry in a hard-fought round of Super Smash Brothers. “You’re getting better, kid, but I am still the master!” Mid-gloat, she glanced up to see Regina’s eyes sweeping over the both of them as she smiled indulgently, and she had a sudden sense that she wanted the three of them to be a unit more often. And that, frankly, made her feel a bit dizzy. Shaking it off quickly, she challenged “Okay, Madam Senator, are you ready to get beat?”

Regina just chuckled as she took the controller from Henry . . . and then proceeded to wipe the floor with Emma.

“You’re just mashing buttons!” she accused.

Regina laughed. “No, dear. This is skill.” The blonde supposed she should be irritated by the senator’s superior look, but she was too baffled. And besides, it was kind of hot.

**

As their making out started to get heated and Emma reached to untuck Regina’s shirt, the senator pulled back. “Should we be doing this?”

“Henry’s at the far end of the apartment and down a story,” the blonde replied, knowing immediately what she meant. “We’ll have to be a little quieter than at your place, but it’s really fine.” Emma had done this plenty of times before, but it seemed best not to put it that way.

“Alright, he’s your child,” the older woman conceded, eagerly kissing her again. Before long Emma was standing beside the bed to strip Regina below the waist, and as she went to climb back up the senator asked, “Will you just go make sure I locked the door?”

“Okay,” the blonde conceded, reaching out and tweaking the older woman’s toes affectionately before she went. The door was indeed locked.

As Emma approached the bed again she could see the glisten of arousal between Regina’s slightly parted legs and had a sudden desperate need to have her in her mouth.  She dropped to her knees beside the bed, hooked her arms under the senator’s hips, pulled her to the edge with one yank, and had both of the older woman’s thighs over her shoulders before either of them could even breathe. She began to lap at her intently, loving the rhythms they had together, the incredible rightness of her touch and Regina’s response.

“Inside, please,” Regina asked after several long moments of this, and Emma was glad to slip two fingers in. She began to fuck her, steady-sweet, intensifying the motion of her tongue. Before long the senator’s hips were rolling to meet her.

“Emma,” the older woman gasped, reaching down and coaxing the blonde’s chin up to meet her eyes, “Do you have one of those, um, strap ons?”

The barista blinked. “Yeah, why?”

“I would kind of like something, um, larger?” Regina looked a little embarrassed.

“Size queen,” Emma teased.

“What?”

“Nevermind. Yes, I do have one, but I don’t have to use it to stretch and fill you,” she smirked. Turning over her wrist, she began pushing downward as she thrust in to make the older woman feel stretched and full and _taken_.

“Oh! How?”

“God bless Nina Hartley,” was all Emma had time to murmur because her desire to eat Regina was still so strong. She began to tongue the senator relentlessly, demanding everything she had to give, loving the breathy little sounds she was making. God, in this moment having this woman in her mouth felt like everything she ever wanted.

Regina was shuddering hard now with every thrust of fingers and lick at her clit, and then she was clapping her hand over her own mouth as she came hard.

The blonde kissed her way back up the older woman’s body as she crawled back onto the bed, then propped herself up on one elbow, legs still dangling off the edge, to just _look_ at how beautiful Regina was like this, the slightest sheen of perspiration making her almost glow in the dim light as she lay there panting and well-fucked.

Soon the senator pulled her down for a kiss, then murmured, “Get up onto the bed properly, will you dear?”

Emma was glad to comply. Soon she was on her back lengthwise on the bed, Regina hovering over her. It was then that she discovered the older woman had a bit of a mischievous streak. The senator settled between her thighs, but then nipped her way up the inside of one leg from the knee, pausing just long enough to exhale hotly on Emma’s cunt, making her hips twitch hard, before repeating the motion up the other side.

“Regina,” the barista groaned. “Touch me.”

The older woman gave an evil little chuckle. “Like this?” she asked innocently, leaning in but barely touching her clit with just the sides of her tongue.

“God, Regina, please,” Emma begged, and at that the senator moaned into her and began to eat her steadily. After fucking Regina and then being teased, Emma was shuddering hard immediately, couldn’t even buck or clutch or mutter dirty encouragements. After a few moments of this she was abruptly, gloriously full of the older woman’s fingers as her tongue continued to do indescribably perfect things, and for long moments Emma didn’t know how her body could survive feeling this amazing.

Then she was coming hard. Her back arching clean off the bed.

Through her post-orgasm haze, she saw Regina smirk a little as she wiped her mouth, and she knew they had to go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to fulfill a prompt! “Emma sees Regina wearing reading glasses for the first time.”
> 
> Plus, shoutout to my Tumblr followers for sharing their headcanons about Regina and video games and helping me decide not to go with DDR or Guitar Hero but a fighting game. @iwouldcurseworldsforyou made the specific Super Smash Bros. suggestion. @heyyouwiththeboobs suggested Regina would be good at combinations and Emma would think she was button-mashing.


	8. Chapter 8

Emma quickly retrieved the toy the older woman had requested earlier from her bottom drawer and put it on with a few swift, confident motions, though it inevitably wobbled absurdly in response to her tugging at the straps.

Feeling keenly ridiculous as she met Regina’s eyes once more, the blonde asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“Can I-” the senator paused, as if searching for the words. “Ride you?”

“Can you ever,” the barista groaned. Climbing onto the bed, she hurriedly shoved the pillows out of the way so that she could lean back against the headboard. Regina was right beside her in no time, and her smooth, feline motion as she straddled Emma’s thighs had her breathing, “God damn, you’re amazing.”

The older woman answered with a hum that was somewhere between acknowledgement and thanks. Then she was cupping Emma’s face in both hands for an intense kiss that made her moan into the senator’s mouth. Regina’s face as she moved to hover over Emma’s lap drifted somewhere between smirk and smile, but smoothed out into pure pleasure as she lined up the blonde’s cock and slowly lowered herself onto it, working it into her in gradually increasing motions.

Once she had taken the toy to the hilt, Regina wrapped her arms around the barista’s shoulders and pulled their upper bodies tight together. They fell into deep kisses as the older woman began a slow, almost lazy rocking, and the blonde ran the fingertips of one hand up the senator’s spine, then cupped the back of her neck. She pressed her other hand flat and warm against Regina’s lower back. She loved the way they aligned so perfectly together, breast and stomach and mirrored thudding of hearts. 

Picking up her pace a little, Regina threw her head back and groaned, “I love feeling you so deep inside me.”

And Emma loved _being_ deep inside her, groaning right back and moving her mouth to the senator’s exposed throat. This was almost painfully perfect, and there was nothing else that mattered in the world right now but the flexing of the older woman’s thigh muscles around Emma’s hips and her breathy little sounds of pleasure. She was riding in earnest now, and oh- the base of the cock was suddenly hitting Emma just perfectly, making her moan with pleasure and surprise.

The senator’s eyes searched her face. “Good?”

“So good, baby,” Emma groaned. She slid her hands up to pull lightly at Regina’s nipples. The older woman’s hips thrust harder in response and Jesus- Emma was going to come just from being ridden if she kept moving like that, and she dropped her hands to the senator’s flexing ass to keep her right- there-.

Both of them were making little sounds of need now as they found an intimate rhythm, spiraling higher, synchronized, staring into each other’s eyes, moving faster, gripping harder, until they came, one breath after another.

**

"You know, the way you're on your knees for me at the slightest provocation makes me think you're into S&M," Regina teased as Emma rose from kneeling to climb onto the bed during a stolen midday hour several weeks later.

"Not S&M. D/s maybe," the blonde sassed, upping the ante on the sex knowledge.

"What's that?"

"Sadomasochism is power and sex and pain; dominance and submission is just sex and power." The barista grinned at the senator's minor consternation and briefly considered trying to see if she could shock her. But then she thought better of it answered the question the older woman was actually asking. "Really, at a certain point you want someone so much that you just want her in your mouth, 'cause it's intimate and immediate and raw. An act of adoration."

Propped up on one elbow and smiling down at Regina, Emma suddenly realized what she was saying and felt totally exposed; suddenly wanting to look anywhere but into those bright brown eyes, she hastened to lighten the mood with a smirk and a quip. "And I love to make you come on my face." She frowned. "In my mouth? Damn, there's no way to say that without sounding like money shot dialogue."

Glancing back at Regina, the barista realized the older woman hadn't been distracted by the change of tone. Their eyes met, and the air was heavy with all they did not say.

Regina’s cellphone rang, and as the senator grabbed for it Emma was ashamed to be so grateful. It was Sidney; the leadership had scheduled a vote.

After hurriedly dressing, they paused just inside the door for a quick hug and kiss, and as Emma slipped outside first Regina said, quietly enough that they could both pretend it didn't happen, "I love you too."

**

A few days later, Henry came to meet Emma at Lattetude after school so that they could go shopping after her shift for new school clothes.

“Stop growing so fast, kid,” she teased as they headed toward the front door. “Or I’m gonna make you just wear those pants and tell people they’re capris.”

They got two steps out of the door before being blinded by what felt like a cluster bomb of flashbulbs. “Emma! Emma! Tell us about being Regina Mills’s big lesbian secret!”

Shielding Henry against her chest on instinct, the blonde managed, just barely, not to tell the paparazzi off or even curse at them, knowing intuitively that doing so would only make this, whatever it was, that much worse. “Dude, leave me and my kid alone,” she growled.

As she turned to go back inside, hoping the café would be shelter, a particularly daring photographer circled around to cut off their retreat. “Man, get out of my face!”

“Hey! Hey!” David shouted as he came out, the outward swing of the door colliding with the aggressive paparazzo. “What the hell is going on here? Why are you harassing my employee and her son?”

“David! David! How long have you known that Senator Mills is a lesbian?”

“What the-?”

“Don’t talk to them,” Emma hissed.

“Right,” he agreed, putting his body between them and the photographers as a shield, and it was just enough that they could escape inside. The squeaky door echoed in the eerie silence that had descended on the café. Every patron was staring, and more than a few of them had whipped out their cell phones.

“No. Uh-uh. Get out. Not in my shop,” David growled, then told Emma and Henry in an undertone to go into the back.

As soon as they were behind the meager shelter of the beaded curtain, Emma had her phone out and was calling Regina. As it rang, she racked her brain trying to think if she’d done something. They’d been at this for months, so why was it blowing up _now_? Had she gotten careless as they settled into being together?

“Emma-”

“Regina, what the fuck is going on?” she cut her off. “Lattetude is under siege by reporters asking about you and me.”

“Oh god,” the senator breathed. “Emma, I’m so sorry. Stay inside. I’ll send a car for you. And Henry, did he make it there okay before they showed up?”

The blonde relaxed a tiny amount at the senator’s care and immediate plan of action. “Yeah. He did. Yeah. How did this happen?”

“Some tabloid sleaze. I don’t know exactly. We’re just finding out about it now too. I was just about to call you. Sidney is investigating. I am so, so sorry,” she repeated.

“Hey, we’ll get through it, okay?” Emma murmured, even as she knew perfectly well she couldn’t promise any such thing.

But when she heard the little tremble in Regina’s “We will?” she knew it had been exactly the right thing to say in this moment.

“Yeah. Love you.”

She could almost hear the senator smile. “Love you too. I have to go. See you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update 07.11.
> 
> There wasn't going to be strapon in this chapter, but then someone commented about it and I had to add it.


	9. Chapter 9

“This is a fucking disaster,” Sidney barked after getting off the phone for the third time in just the twenty minutes Emma and Henry had been at the office. “Talk about an October surprise. Tell me you weren’t a teen mom on welfare,” he said, turning to Emma.

She and Regina reacted simultaneously. “Fuck off!” “Sidney!”

“Regina,” the chief of staff answered in a tight voice, “I am in full damage control mode. You have to stay out of my way.” Turning to Emma, he conceded, “I’m sorry for the way I asked the question, but they’re going to know everything about you by tomorrow so I need to also or I can’t protect you _or_ Regina.”

Emma took a deep breath. “Okay, that’s fair. I was 18, and married to Henry’s father. We’re divorced now, so it’s not, like, cheating or anything.” When his face relaxed she knew that was going to be his next worry. “And I’ve have had some pretty terrible jobs but never been on welfare. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she muttered.

Sidney ignored the complaint, saying “Okay, that’s good” and then turning to Regina, “But we need to clean this up fast. People are going to think you have some kinda radical gay agenda.” He started pacing and muttering, “Gotta change the story, gotta change the story.” Abruptly he stopped and turned back to the two of them. “You gotta do a photo op with the kid. Reframing this as family will claw back some points with the values voters.”

“No. Absolutely not. I am not using Emma’s son as a prop!” Regina snapped.

“No, I want to help,” Henry put in, pulling out his headphones. Emma couldn’t quite bring herself to scowl at him for eavesdropping even though she knew she should.

“Henry,” Regina admonished, though her expression was soft.

“You make my mom so happy. Let me help you,” the boy insisted.

**

And so sunset that day found them all at an out-of-the-way park to accidentally-on-purpose be photographed together doing regular, “family friendly” things. Regina was dressed in a worn University of Montana Grizzlies sweatshirt which, in response to teasing, she primly informed Emma she _did_ actually own before five seconds ago, and pink athletic shoes that she confessed were indeed props for the photo op. Apparently looking too masculine was a major danger with this stunt, and all of the calculation just made the barista’s head spin—nearly as much as the sight of the older woman’s ass in those decidedly feminine jeans.

They threw a football around for a while, taking care to get Henry and Regina tackling each other into autumnal leaves and laughing. They looked so much like mother and son in that moment that it honestly took Emma’s breath away, and for a split second she let herself hope that this might be turning into something more permanent. And then she folded that feeling up and put it away in a small, dusty, unused corner of her heart, because it was ridiculous to even _think_ it when their whole lives had just been turned upside down.

**

Regina put on a brave face for the cameras, for Sidney, for Henry. But that night, when they slept in the same bed for the first time because, well, why not stay over at this point since the cat was out of the bag, Emma held her as she wept long past when her tear ducts gave out.

As it tapered off, her body still racked with occasional hysterical sobs, but less frequent now, the older woman tried to gasp out something about “It’s not you,” “I’m not ashamed,” “Don’t know why,” “It’s just a job,” clearly worried that the blonde’s feelings were hurt by how devastated she was by the damage to her political career.

Emma just pulled the senator closer to her chest, tucking her head against her shoulder, and murmured, “I’m fine.”

“But-”

“And Henry will be fine. He already had the fistfights over having a gay mom years ago. Right now what I’m worried about is you. We gotta get through these next few weeks,” she cracked a smile, “and win your seat again, and then we can worry about this stuff. I’m just gonna be here, okay?”

The tension left Regina’s body for the first time. She pulled back slightly and just stared at Emma for a long, long moment before whispering, “How did I get so lucky?”

“As much as I’m not thrilled to be on the cover of the paper tomorrow as your Big Lesbian Secret, I think we’re both pretty lucky, babe,” the barista murmured. She paused, then teased, “Behind every great woman is a great woman, and I’ll just be hanging out back here.”

“Enjoying the view, Miss Swan?” Regina sassed. Emma hadn’t even realized she’d been holding a knot of tension in the pit of her stomach until she felt herself relax that the senator was able to joke.

“Yes ma’am.”

**

“Thanks for keeping me company watching this thing, Rubes,” Emma said, setting her laptop on the coffee table and pulling up Regina’s campaign website. “I mean, you know, virtually. It’s still a bad idea for _anyone_ to be seen with me if they don’t want to suddenly become paparazzi bait.”

Ruby chuckled at the other end of the phone. “How _is_ the media frenzy going?”

“Ugh,” Emma groaned. “Well let’s see. I got an offer to do an intimate on-camera sitdown with Barbara Walters. Um,” the blonde tried to remember. “Someone pitched me a proposal to do a ghostwritten tell-all book with a six-figure advance.”

“Wow, Em, you _sure_ you don’t wanna throw Regina under the bus?” the brunette teased.

“Shut up,” the blonde answered, though she was laughing. “Oh and the best one, and by best I mean worst, was the offer to do a porn.”

Ruby choked on herself, then sputtered out, “No!”

“Yeah,” Emma breathed. That offer, more than any of the others, had really driven home the way this scandal had made her public property.

“You totally took _that_ one, right?” her cousin joked.

“Stop, it’s not funny,” Emma insisted even as she cracked up. God it felt good to be normal for five seconds; she had missed Ruby so much lately. “I’m not taking _any_ of them. Sidney said to send all that stuff along to Regina’s PR people, so that’s what I’ve been doing. Except the porn one. That voicemail I just deleted. I still don’t even fucking know how they got my number in the first place.”

“The internet,” Ruby said knowingly.

“Fucking internet,” the blonde agreed.

“Speaking of which, did they ever find out who outed you to that sleazebag blogger?”

“No,” Emma answered, getting up to pace in her irritation. “All the leads came up empty and he’s not talking about his source and it’s not libel because it’s true. Sidney put the fear of god into the whole staff but nobody fessed up. It’s a dead end.” She realized she was gesticulating wildly in her empty apartment and sighed. “More important to get through it.”

“But it’s gonna blow over, right?” the brunette asked gently.

“Not so far. All every news outlet wants to talk about is LESBIAN SENATOR FROM MONTANA in all caps.” She was pacing again now. “You’d think it’d be bigger news that the other guy wants to strip mine Yellowstone. And make kids do manual labor for free lunches at school. And require not one but _two_ transvaginal ultrasounds for an abortion.  But no, hot girl-on-girl action sells newspapers.”

Her cousin whistled ruefully. “Shit, Em. I’m sorry. So that’s why she’s calling this press conference.”

“Yeah, the PR people decided they have to face it head-on. When I talked to her a few minutes ago she said it’s a slow news day so they’ll get some good coverage.” Emma sat heavily down on the couch again and sighed. “God, I hope this works.”

“Oh! It’s starting!” Ruby sounded almost as excited as Emma, and that warmed her as she settled in to watch the livestream.

There Regina was, looking entirely senatorial, bracketed by US and Montana flags fluttering in a light breeze, in front of some really impressive scenery. “The Montana I know and love is a place where you judge a person’s character by the hard work they do. Not the car they drive, or who they vote for, or who they love.” Regina paused there, looking the crowd in its collective eyes, shoulders square in her perfectly fitted suit and skin glowing golden in the late-afternoon sun.

“Montanans believe in ‘Live and let live,’ as much in keeping the government out of our lives when we don’t need it as in keeping your nose out of your neighbor’s business when it doesn’t affect you. But also, good neighbors stand by each other. We stand _up_ for one another, because we believe in community, because that is what is right,” the senator went on, her cadence hammering the last five words home and somehow managing to both critique the petty interest in gossip and call upon her hearers to live up to their better angels. This was a goddamn leader.

“I am still the same Regina Mills committed to finding the right balance of regulation and local control to help family ranches not just survive but thrive in an agricultural-conglomerate world. I am still the same person who breaks with my party to do what is right for the people of this state. I am still the same person you have put your trust in, and who has had the honor to serve this state for the past eight years. And I ask you to continue to trust me.” And fuck, she looked so noble, so determined, so unbearably gorgeous that it took Emma’s breath.

“She’s got my vote,” Ruby joked as it wrapped up, having been as captivated into silence as the blonde.

“And mine. Twice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we’re not going to see a lot of the scandal and the political stuff, partially because I don’t know how to write it and nobody volunteered to consult with me on it and researching it is too big of an undertaking for me right now . . . but also because Emma’s our focal character and she’s not going to be in the thick of it anyway.
> 
> A big thanks to heyyouwiththeboobs for helping me think my way out of the corner in this chapter. 
> 
> Next update 07.15


	10. Chapter 10

The speech turned the tide. The conversation was once again about Regina’s leadership and her track record of fighting for the people of her state. There were even whispers about the next presidential race, because Emma hadn’t been the only one to find her steely-eyed determination inspiring.

Or, at least, Senator Mills’s oratorical tour de force _mostly_ took attention back where it belonged. Regina still had to field the gay question with every reporter, in every town hall, and during every Twitter Q &A. Her opponent continued to talk about ABOMINATION in all caps to rile up his base, but the small victory was that he did it without specifying who or what he meant, because Regina’s campaign had successfully framed direct aspersions as mudslinging and undignified.

It turned out that, while Montana still had a gay marriage ban on the books, it had been ten years and in 2014 people were much more interested in making sure they could graze their stock and send their kids to college than what went on in other people’s bedrooms. The speech had shifted the terrain just enough that the senator now got to talk about her policy positions again much of the time, and that was the antidote, because it proved what they’d known from the beginning: when people knew what she believed in, they believed in her.

The PR people made sure to get in a few more “family values” photo ops, releasing “intimate photos of a family dinner” and some of the three of them volunteering at Henry’s school’s annual Day of Service. But Regina’s campaign steadfastly refused to grant any interviews with Emma, deciding to take a hard line on “Family is off limits.” Senator Mills, they said, would gladly answer reasonable, respectful questions, but private citizens deserved privacy. The blonde was profoundly grateful, because she knew she’d manage to say the wrong thing if they asked her.

Emma talked to Regina every day, but as the election neared their conversations got shorter. Regina’s voice got tighter. The polling was back within the margin of error after the hit it took with the outing and still trending up, but at the same time shaking that many hands and eating that many house specials and smiling that hard for that many hours every day was just fucking exhausting even without people making inappropriate comments about one’s intimate relationship two times out of three. 

At the one-week mark, Regina began, “I need you to-” then paused and sighed. “Sorry, I’m still in talking-to-staff mode. I would really like for you to come out here. Over this last weekend until Tuesday, perhaps? I just- whatever happens, I’m going to want you here. Obviously, I’ll buy the tickets.”

The blonde felt warmth spread through her chest at being needed. “I’d love to baby, but I can’t leave Henry.”

“No, no of course not,” the older woman hurried to explain. “Henry too. I- I know he’d miss a couple of days of school, but-” She got very quiet.

“But what, Regina?” Emma prodded gently.

Her reply was almost inaudible. “You got me through this. You should be here. Both of you. You’re- you’re my- we’re- something.”

Hearing Regina’s trademark eloquence fail her when she tried to describe their bond made Emma absolutely melt into a puddle of adoration for this woman. “And you’re our something,” she said, her voice rough with emotion. “I’ll make it happen.”

**

As Emma exited the jetbridge into the terminal, she looked out the windows in front of her and smiled at how beautiful it was here. She could see what it was that had captivated Regina about this state.

When she turned her attention to the _people_ , however, she was greeted with a decidedly less aesthetically pleasing sight. At this time on a weekday afternoon, the population of the airport was local businessmen on their way out, and they were universally white good old boy types, all in cowboy boots and many with big belt buckles and bigger hats.

Abruptly she was reminded of her conversation with Neal when she checked in that he was cool with her taking Henry to Montana for the weekend.

_“Yeah, of course. But let me just say this out loud to you. You’re gonna fly out to the middle of fucking nowhere to support the senatorial campaign of a woman you’ve been dating only a few months.” He looked at her in that way he had half way between wise and puppydog._

_“Um, yeah? I don’t know why. It’s stupid.” She could feel herself blushing._

_Neal laughed at her. Literally laughed in her face. “You love her, dumbass.”_

_“Yeah. I really do.” Emma felt her expression go soft. “I’m sorry.”_

_He shrugged. “Hey, being even tangentially connected to this scandal has done wonders for business in the shop.”_

_“Neal.”_

_“I love you Em,” he said, suddenly serious. “I will always love you. And that means wanting to see you happy.” He smiled. “And Regina? Despite this crazy shitshow of a scandal she is_ so _good for you. In a way I could never be. You are so,” he paused, searching for the word, “alive. Better than ever. The whites whiter and brights brighter Emma. Don’t be sorry for that.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. They sat in companionable silence for a long, long moment before he tilted his head at her. “Hey, remember that stupid plan we cooked up when we were twelve to go to Tallahassee?”_

_Emma laughed. “Yeah, what was it that got us fixated on_ there _?”_

_“The hell if I remember. Just some faraway unattainable thing that sounded like magic.” But then Neal got serious again. “But I honest to god think you found your Tallahassee. So go the fuck to Montana.”_

She shook herself, realizing she was standing in the middle of the airport with Henry staring at her. “C’mon, kid.”

**

Regina was on the porch talking to two scruffy-looking but handsome men in rather more practical ranch attire than she’d seen in the airport when Emma and Henry got out of the rental car. In her cowboy boots and hat, the senator looked like an entirely different person—and more irresistible than ever. Emma found herself wanting to tear the worn jeans and work shirt off the older woman and ravish her right there on the front steps of what looked like a pretty luxurious version of a log cabin in the wilderness. Except, you know, public, and Henry, and splinters.

Instead she settled for a “Hey, you. We made it” and some intense eye contact.

The senator quirked an eyebrow as if she knew exactly what the barista was thinking, then came down the steps to greet Henry with a hug and Emma with a kiss. When Regina gave her lips a tiny nip as she pulled away, she knew the older woman was definitely onto her and intended to tease her about it. But before she could find some way to banter about it that was safe for kid ears, one of the men on the porch cleared his throat.

As Emma looked up at them, the taller, thinner one asked “Are you going to introduce us to your lady love?” with a charming and totally unexpected Irish lilt.

Emma felt herself blush at the title, and Regina just scowled at the man for a moment before her face softened into a smile. “Emma, Henry, meet Graham, the forward one, and Robin. They very capably manage the ranch for me while I’m representing this state in Congress.”

“This lad looks like he would like a few riding lessons this weekend,” Robin suggested, and Henry lit up.

Emma was pleased that he was offering to do such a nice thing for her son, but perplexed that he, too, didn’t sound like he was from around here.

It must have shown on her face, because Graham laughed. “You’re curious about the accents.”

Now she was really blushing. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. Just, you don’t expect to see two guys, um, from the British Isles running a horse ranch in Montana.”

 “Both our families come from a long line of horsemen,” Robin said, and she wasn’t sure if his air of superiority was a joke or sincere.

“Centuries,” Graham put in smoothly, as if they were used to finishing each other’s sentences.

“Unfortunately, there’s much less of that in Britain than there used to be. But in the American West we can honor our ancestors.” Now the blonde was sure he was joking, and felt a bit relieved that he was not the pompous ass he had initially seemed.

“Fair,” she chuckled, then glanced back at Regina.

“So you got the colts moved?” the senator asked the men, clearly continuing their previous conversation.

“That we did,” Graham averred. “Have we earned our keep?”

The senator laughed. “And a cold beer. The chili should be ready. What about you, Henry, are you hungry?”

“Yeah. Can I have a beer?”

“No!” Emma and Regina said in stereo, then smiled as they caught each other’s eyes, perfectly in sync.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally Ch 12 was going to just be election results, broken into a separate chapter just for a little suspense, and i was going to post 11 and 12 at the same time on the 19th.
> 
> however, due to some of the earlier parts running longer than i initially expected 12 is now all of election day but still too short to stand alone. so, dear readers, i put the question to you: 
> 
> do i add smut to make 12 a full-size chapter, which means you don't find out what happens until 07.23, or still post 11 and a short 12 on the 19th?


	11. Chapter 11

Emma and Henry went with Regina on her campaign events all day Saturday and again Sunday morning. Emma hung around in the background at the various sites, helping where she could, in order to be visibly “the supportive partner” but not exposed to reporters. It was trickier to balance letting the press know Henry was there without parading him around, so—by mutual agreement between Emma and Regina and over his objections—he mostly stayed on the bus unless the venue had a secured area.

By the second day, after watching Regina keep her thoughtful politician expression in the face of a third old white man this morning who felt the need to condemn her “lifestyle,” Emma told Sidney that she was going to go for a walk. She needed some air. Before long she was sitting on a split-rail fence half a mile down the road, dialing Ruby.

"What the hell am I doing out here?” the blonde was exclaiming almost before her cousin said “Hello.” “I mean, I love her. I love her so much that sometimes it doesn’t feel like my chest can even contain it. But this existence? This campaigning shit? The security guys had to tackle some whackjob religious righter last week who rushed at her and she didn’t even fucking _tell_ me. And don’t even get me started on the massive quantities of hate mail she tried to keep me from seeing. I just- Fuck- Fuck!” she sputtered. “I just want to smash all of their fucking faces in.”

“And you think she doesn’t?” Ruby asked as soon as she could get a word in edgewise.

That brought Emma up short. “What?”

“I understand anger. I understand violent impulses. You know damn well there’s a reason we call it big bad wolf week once a month. So take it from me: even a saint would want to punch somebody’s face in with what Regina’s going through after this outing thing. And she has to hold all that shit in _all the time_.”

“But it’s so fucked up!” Emma exploded.

“Yeah, it totally is.” Ruby freely agreed. “But here’s the thing. It’s also exactly why she needs someone who loves her so much her chest can’t hold it all to have her back. And you, getting all protective like this, on this avenging savior riff? You know it too.”

“Yeah,” Emma breathed.

“So buy your ass a punching bag, because you are in this for the long haul.”

**

Robin and Graham offered to take an ecstatic Henry out for a ride to give Emma and Regina a couple hours of alone time on that Sunday afternoon, the last tiny lull in the senator’s schedule before Monday and Tuesday’s full court press.

“You know Graham and Robin are totally getting their Brokeback on, right?” Emma asked as they watched them disappear into the distance out the large windows of Regina’s second-story office.

“What? No!” Regina was shocked. A beat. “Really?”

“Yeah, babe.”

“I never had any idea. But-” She paused, perplexed. “But Robin had a wife until she died last year, and he has a son. And they’re so manly!”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Yes, because no one ever has a heterosexual relationship before a gay one. Also,you’re hiding your raging masculinity extraordinarily well for someone who has sex with a woman.”

Regina stared at her for a moment before realizing she was joking and chuckling a little ruefully. “Sorry. I’m not that good at being gay yet.”

“I’d say you’re pretty great at it, actually,” Emma joked, then kissed her. Things were headed in a nice direction until Regina’s phone rang. The blonde was disappointed, but the older woman’s little longing “Mm” as they pulled apart was so damn sexy it was almost worth the interruption.

When Regina came back from her call, Emma was looking at the collection of memorabilia on the display shelf. “You know, it’s too bad Daniel retired from the Army," she mused.

"What?"

"If he’d kept going he could have been General Mills," the blonde replied, managing to keep a straight face.

"Hush," Regina admonished, but she was laughing as she hooked her fingers into Emma’s belt loops to turn her around for a kiss. The older woman backed steadily toward the couch, pulling the barista with her. When she reached it she sat down, lay back, and crooked a finger in invitation. Emma was only too glad to press against her.

As their kissing became more heated and the senator's hips began to move, the barista broke the kiss to ask, "I thought you had a policy against fucking on the couch?"

"They will be out on that ride for hours and the office door is locked and I am making an exception,” Regina said all in a rush. “What did I tell you about hushing?"

Emma laughed. "Well I always did hear it's not polite to talk with your mouth full," she said, sliding down the older woman's body and trailing her fingertips over the button on her jeans.

“Good girl,” Regina purred as she reached to help undress herself. They were both bare in no time, Emma settling on her knees on the thick rug since the couch wasn’t quite long enough to lay on her belly.

She met Regina’s amused gaze with a raised eyebrow and sassed, “Yes, on my knees for you, again.”

“A girl could certainly get used to having you there.”

The blonde smiled up at her, keeping eye contact as she lowered her mouth to the older woman’s pussy and began giving slow, wet strokes with the flat of her tongue.  She reveled in working Regina up gradually, feeling her get wetter and hearing her start to breathe harder and seeing the eagerness on her face.

It was really kind of magical to caress the older woman in a steady rhythm like this, unhurried, focused on the journey of sensation more than the destination of her orgasm. Emma found herself humming happily against the senator’s slick flesh and maintaining just enough focus to not get lost in how fucking good she felt and tasted, though it was a near thing because her cunt was a goddamn masterpiece.

Regina was making little sounds low in her chest now that hovered deliciously between a groan and a whimper, rolling her hips just a little against Emma’s mouth. Soon the blonde slid two fingers inside the older woman, starting a steady thrusting motion, and wrapped her other arm around her thigh to keep her close. Regina responded by hooking the other calf behind her back, holding her in place, too.

A bit more of this and the senator was angling her hips in sharp motions alternating up toward Emma’s mouth and down to get the blonde’s fingers deeper, grabbing the back of her head with one hand to keep her exactly where she was and clenching the couch cushions with the other, and Emma felt delightfully gripped and surrounded. It was so perfect to see and taste and feel her this way that the blonde was moaning into her pussy with each breath. She wanted this to last forever.

The older woman actually cried out with her orgasm, and ecstasy looked fucking amazing on her.

“Mm, c’mere,” the senator slurred in the sweaty, panting afterglow. Emma obligingly climbed onto the couch and kissed her lightly. “No, _here,_ ” Regina insisted, grabbing with both hands to pull the blonde’s body completely flush against her as their mouths met again.

Their kisses quickly became intense, Regina running greedy fingers up and down Emma’s back. On a downward stroke she grabbed the barista’s ass to pull them even tighter together, making one of Emma’s legs fall between hers, and they both gasped as the blonde’s sopping pussy pressed against her upper thigh.

“So wet,” the senator breathed.

Emma chuckled. “Probably you haven’t seen yourself come, but let me tell you: It’s really fucking hot.”

Regina smiled. “I haven’t, but I can imagine because I’ve seen _you_ have an orgasm. I’d actually like to see you do so again, very soon,” she added, sliding her fingers around the blonde’s hip and between her legs.

“I’ll have to see what I can do about that,” the barista, said, pretending to consider even as her hips shifted to let Regina’s fingers press into her.

“There’s my good girl,” the senator purred, settling into thrusting inside and rubbing her thumb over the blonde’s clit. Emma sat up slightly so she could move more, loving the way Regina’s eyes were riveted to the ever-so-slight bounce of her breasts with the motion of her hips. Soon the older woman had managed to push up on one elbow and get a nipple into her mouth while continuing to fuck the blonde slow and steady, and Emma cradled her head against her chest.

“Fucking hell I missed you,” the barista muttered as she started to get close. “You don’t have to do this again for six years, right?”

The senator pulled her mouth off Emma’s nipple with deliberate noise. “I don’t know, dear, the needy way you’re riding my hand makes me want to go on long campaign trips all the time,” she teased.

“Regina,” the blonde admonished, somehow managing to sound both exasperated and breathy.

Looking into Emma’s eyes, curling her fingers within her, smiling one of her rare, genuine smiles, Regina relented, agreeing, “I missed you incredibly much. Come for me, my darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @bobbingformangos for helping me talk through some logistics here and Trublu for political consulting.


	12. Chapter 12

A couple of hours and several orgasms later found the two of them kneeling on the couch, the senator’s perfect ass tucked against Emma’s hips. They fit together just right, the blonde decided as she made long strokes with the flat of her fingers, rubbing Regina’s clit as she slid down, pressing her fingertips as much inside as she could reach from this angle, then caressing her clit again from the underside on the way back up, easy and steady and pleasure for its own sake.

With her other hand, the blonde held the older woman against her, elbow tucked against her ribs and hand flat on her sternum.  The barista reveled in the feeling of their bodies touching from chest to thighs, and when Regina turned her head over her shoulder to kiss her it was even better.

But before long the senator’s hips were twitching hard, her head lolled back on Emma’s shoulder. The blonde switched to rubbing intent circles on her clit, feeling the tension in Regina's body ramping up. Fuck, her happy little hums and sighs and whimpers were perfection.

 “Inside, please,” the older woman asked suddenly.

“The next time I am packing my cock and the TSA can just get a damn show,” Emma muttered.

“What?” the senator panted.

“Nothing,” the barista said, not wanting to derail this entirely delightful encounter with an explanation. “Lean forward,” she urged, pushing with her hips.  

In no time Regina was on her knees, nearly hugging the couch arm, hips rolling back eagerly to meet the thrusts of Emma’s fingers. “You look so fucking good like this,” the blonde groaned as she fucked her, her motion strong and slow and focused. “That amazing ass in the air. Just- mm.”

The barista added a third finger and picked up the pace, wanting to really _take_ Regina, and the older woman’s intense moaning in response was a thing of beauty.

Soon, “Yes, fuck me, don’t stop, keep fucking me, don’t ever stop” fell from Regina’s mouth with every breath, and working her up all the way to pure, electric delight was so fucking hot.  Then, suddenly the senator stopped cold and choked out, “Oh god, they’re coming back.”

Emma glanced up, and she could spot three horses with riders out the window in front of them, quite far away still, but unmistakable. “They’re way out there,” she insisted. “We’ve got time. I can get you off.” She wanted to make Regina come again so badly that she didn’t even care about the desperate, pleading tone in her voice.

“Yes,” Regina hissed, part pleasure and part agreement, beginning to move her hips once more. “And they have to put the horses away, too,” she rationalized.

“Good, because we need to shower,” the blonde pointed out.

“What?” the senator’s gasp was nearly a whine, and the barista smiled that she was so eager again already.

“Robin must have had sex with his wife at least the one time, and we are both gloriously covered in pussy,” the blonde explained, adding, “Don’t move” as she pulled away from the older woman.

“What? Emma-” the senator began to turn and protest, only to stop as she saw the blonde on her back shimmying up between her where her knees were spread on the couch. “Oh!”

“Uh huh,” the barista confirmed, pulling Regina’s hips down onto her face with one hand as she slid her fingers back in with the other.

Emma didn’t think she’d ever get enough of Regina in her mouth, how wet she got, how explosively responsive she was to every tiny touch. Fuck, the feeling of how much Regina _wanted_ this, wanted her, the way the muscles in her thighs and ass clenched as her hips moved against the blonde’s mouth as breathy little sounds fell from her perfect lips was so, so good. The older woman’s rhythm quickened, and Emma kept pace, licking and sucking and filling her with her fingers and not even caring that her hungry little moans and slurping sounds were totally obscene.

Regina’s movements got shorter and sharper and more urgent, and when she came, muscles taut and face all ecstasy, she was so fucking beautiful.

**

“Did you enjoy your ride?” Regina asked as they walked into the kitchen some time later. They hadn’t quite managed to greet the returning horsemen at the door due to getting somewhat distracted in the shower, but were almost perfectly put together except for damp hair and no makeup.

“Very much. Did you?” Graham asked innocently.

Emma choked. The Irishman dropped one slow eyelid as he said, “Enjoy your afternoon, I mean.”

**

In the morning, Regina was gone on her last whirlwind tour by the time Emma awoke. The note on the nightstand said:

 _I wanted to wake you for a_ _goodbye kiss, but you looked so beautifully peaceful that I decided it was more important that you get enough sleep. Try not to drive yourself and everyone else crazy with waiting, will you, dear? Yours, R._

Emma scoffed, but then proceeded to prowl aimlessly around the house for a couple of hours before asking Robin and Graham if there was some work she could do, preferably strenuous. And so she found herself hauling fifty-pound bales of hay from the main barn to the various feed sheds on the property, lifting, carrying, loading the ATV, driving, unloading, stacking. It wore her the fuck out and kept her from worrying through the end of Monday, and her exhaustion had her passed out almost before she and Regina finished their good night call.

She was back to vibrating at a high frequency the next morning, though, keenly aware that it was, all caps, blinking lights, ELECTION DAY. She paced for several hours around the house in the morning. When they went to the hotel that served as both command center and the venue for the victory (or defeat) party that afternoon, Emma interspersed her pacing with hovering around people who were working and asking if they needed help until Kathryn, the site manager, told her very politely to back the fuck off.

Then she tried to help Henry interview people for the social studies project on elections that he was doing to make up for missed class until he _also_ told her to cool it. Then she was left only with pacing and listening to the campaign people talking about the returns coming in.

Regina arrived on site after the polls closed at eight, the last push over and the decision entirely in the hands of the voters now. Emma’s anxiety vanished instantly in the face of the need to be a calming presence for the older woman. The blonde made sure Regina ate something, being firm when she tried to brush her off. And then they settled in to wait, leaning into each other, watching the bank of TVs tuned to various news sources.

**

The right attributed Regina’s victory to the momentum from before the revelation of her relationship with Emma. The left said the people of Montana had spoken loud and clear that they respected her courage and integrity. The margin was not terribly wide, but it was enough to be decisive.

But really, in later years all anyone remembered was the picture on the front page of the paper and every news website the next day. Sidney stood to one side, his jaw on the floor. Henry was cheering. And Regina was cupping Emma’s pleasantly surprised face with both hands, kissing her full on the mouth, confetti floating all around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @heyyouwiththeboobs for enduring at least half a dozen versions of “What if I have them . . .?” and Trublu for political consulting.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed your bonus smut, all. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting the whole way through, even when my updates were slow or intermittent. I couldn't do this without you!


End file.
